


Winter Cheer

by Shitgetapen



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bittersweet, Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, Tickling, serious handholding action!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 14:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shitgetapen/pseuds/Shitgetapen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iceland finds perks of being forced to help Denmark when it's freezing is that you'll have some place warm to come back to and company's alway nice too...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Cheer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Milou](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Milou).



“I don’t see why I should be the one to help you with this”. Iceland was in his usual mood of stubbornness crossed with just plain annoyance of having to step into the cold with no good reason. But under the thick crust of displeasure there was a sliver of happiness to be out walking with Denmark in the snow. It was mostly the cold and amount of bags he had to carry that he hated.

Den was smiling obviously enjoying the fresh winter air or maybe just the company. “Haha to be honest you’re the only person who’d have agreed”. Ice stopped pouting for just a moment and looked up questioningly, he was sure that anyone would have helped him really. Den took the silence as an invitation to explain, “Nor’s well... Nor. There’s no way in hell I could talked Su into this and ya know if he’s not, Fin probably wouldn’t...”

He trailed off looking up at the sky at the falling snow that was catching in his hair and eye lashes and had left a small layer over their coats. Ice looked at his face and knew Den was starting to get sentimental, it was typical this time of year but it seemed he was starting early this time.

Ice could tell he was thinking because he had that sad smile playing about his lips he always did and his hands were restless, each one was twirling the bag it was holding. Ice wanted to reach out and grab one of Den’s to make him stop, he swears it’s worse than being was a child. But then again he supposes Den was nothing but a big kid, mood swings and all.

“Whatta’ya looking so happy about?” Ice snapped back from studying Den’s coat and think about how much he actually want to hold Denmark’s hand so tightly in the cold it hurt a little, and maybe not just to stop him fiddling with the shopping. The small smile that had been playing about his face vanished and a blush that could rival any tomato of the ripest quality replaced it with haste. Den’s hands were quite still and he was beaming down at Ice.

“Ya’ happy about spendin’ time with me or something?” (He was, but that was beside the point). Den smirked down at Ice whose blush was only deepening (later to me blamed on that he was getting a cold). “Shut up, stop dawdling so I can get home.” This only made Den laugh and quicken his step with a skip and a twirl, that in the falling snow made him look like one of the pixies that Iceland loved in the old fairy tales Nor used to tell him.

“You’re ridiculous” He sighed jogging to catch up with him, because Den was still smiling and twirling in the snow and he really did look ridiculous and having to be jogged after by a boy only about measuring up to his shoulder didn’t help the looks they were getting. It took a lot of energy and Den herding to get back to the house that Den was currently calling home (he liked to move a lot, restlessness is curse and it’s a chore for others to keep up with the new addresses).

They threw the bags full of gifts and other holiday time necessities along with their damp coats and scarves and gloves on the floor, it was unceremonious but they were shattered and cold and they really didn’t care. They’ll pick it up later, when a large of mug cocoa has been consumed and that hint of stitch in Ice’s side had disappeared.

Ice curled up on his favourite corner of the sofa that seemed to never leave where ever his friend moved and it smelled like time and memories from cosy days inside. He pulled one of the cushions into his lap wrapping his arms around it burying his face into it. Behind all the dust and generic cushiony house smell there was something he was sure only he picked up on, it was the unique smell of something Denmark. It hardly makes a different but he’d miss if it was gone.

“You’re ridiculous” Ice repeats smiling, when he hears den coming back into the room, who was taking careful steps that told him that he was holding the  two cups of cocoa they both desperately needed.

Denmark took the remaining space on the sofa folding his miles of legs underneath himself placing the mugs on an old magazine on the coffee table. Turning to look at Ice and just sat and looked for a moment studying the smaller shape of a nation before sighing and leaning back letting a tired smile spread across his face. “I know. I know.”

Ice turned around so his back was now leaning on the arm of the old couch and they were both facing each other. Ice took the mug from the coffee table into his hands and cuddles the pillow closer to himself. He didn’t mind the silence that came between them sometimes, it had a sort of comfort to it, or rather a magic.

Ice traces his toes along the bottom of Den’s foot, his foot felt warm compared to his own. Then again Den always gave a sort of warmth that he emitted from his very core; it melted the even iciest of personalities.

“Stop that, m’ ticklish!” Denmark protested trying to sound stern but he was quickly dissolving into giggles and kicking (or at least trying to kick), this led to having a small war of kicking and a lot of ice’s cocoa got spilt in the process (that pillow never quite stopped smelling of chocolate, it’s become Denmark’s favourite). In fact Ice had to call time out to put it down to prevent any more being lost before resuming trying to tickle den’s foot while also fighting back.

They sat with their legs tangled and together in silence afterwards for a god knows how long before Iceland broke it with a murmur, “I’m glad no one wants to hang out with you”. It was barely audible and Ice’s blush spread across his face like a wild fire before burying his face into his knees. Den smiled, a real genuine smile and leaned forward as if to ruffle Ice’s hair only to stop about an inch above his head, as if to take better judgement on what he’s doing and let his hand drop, only to take the others hand in his and twine their fingers together. “You were always my first choice anyway.”

Ice looked up into Den’s eyes and they both looked at each other for a moment smiling, studying all the little things that they could from the others face and reaction in case this was a one off (but neither wanted it to be but also neither were very good at getting feelings across, so for now this was all the needed).

They sat in comfortable silence absently watching the TV Den had put on, one set of fingers never left the others and their legs stayed comfortably knotted along with their hands. They were together it was warm and they were both really glad that neither had anything better to do. And even when their mugs were long emptied, the coats and bags remained strewn across the floor. Those bags could stay forever for all they cared as long as this moment didn’t end and that Norway didn’t come looking for his brother and ruin it.


End file.
